


(all my thoughts) circle back to you

by roseandthorns28



Series: dream each day [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur POV, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandthorns28/pseuds/roseandthorns28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> “Have a little imagination, darling,” Eames tells him on their first job together. Arthur scoffs both at the condescending pet name and at the jab itself. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>An Arthurian rant about Arthur, Eames and imagination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(all my thoughts) circle back to you

“Have a little imagination, darling,” Eames tells him on their first job together. Arthur scoffs both at the condescending pet name and at the jab itself.

 

It isn’t that he doesn’t have imagination. He does. It’s just that he isn’t as instinctual about things as Eames is. Everything he knows he’s learned from a variety of sources (not all of them Cobb, fuck you very much Eames) and he applies what he knows and fucking gets results.

He doesn’t live for the process of creation like Mal did, nor does he get hounded by a desire to push the boundaries, to discover more, like Dom. He doesn’t have the wide eyed wonder of Ariadne, the military shared dreaming project having beaten that out of him- quite literally actually. He dreams because it’s his job. And Arthur is fucking brilliant at his job. His job which doesn’t call for out of the box thinking or _imagination_ like Dom’s does.

What it does call for is competence. Competence and the ability to think on the spot when they’re being chased by projections or in an extremely memorable instance, when he has to execute a drop while in zero-gravity as the van moves into freefall. So, Arthur does have imagination (again, fuck you Eames). What he doesn’t have is the natural talent that Eames displays, taking to dreaming like a duck in water and churning out flawless forgeries that Arthur has to admit are fucking brilliant as well.

He’s not an idiot. He knows the hard work that goes into them, having once observed Eames’ process when he was still new to the idea of forgery and _Eames_. But none of that would be possible without Eames’ inherent talent for forgeries in both the real world and the dream. (Arthur still uses one of Eames’ identities he crafted for him during a very boring job.) Arthur admits that Eames is both talented and hardworking and that he almost always comes through on a job. And, it helps that he’s some kind of ex-military (maybe secret service) when the projections get antsy and Arthur isn’t the only one with the knowledge of how to fight his way through them. That someone has his back (most of the time).

But, this isn’t about Eames. This is about _Arthur_. And how he is where he is- the best point man in the whole goddamn industry- because he worked for it, having started with nothing to offer to the table except for his knowledge of shared dreaming- which paled in comparison to people like Cobb who’d studied under Professor Miles, the subject matter expert on dreams and the human subconscious. But, Arthur could fight, he could hold his own in a dream and he was eager and ready to learn. Moreover, he was willing to work over and over again until he perfected whatever little thing it is that he is doing.

He learnt the very basics of shared dreaming that were glossed over in the military (the whole project was simply an experiment in combat training), he learned of kicks and projections. He learned about building mazes and paradoxical architecture. He learned it, then he started applying it, slowly, brick by brick building the foundations till it was a cakewalk for him to walk into a dream and start doing his job.

However, the most important thing that Arthur could do was that he could run point. It wasn’t a common job, at least not when he started. He started out as a new addition to an extraction team, doing everything that the extractor didn’t want to do, all the research and the grunt work and he slowly carved a niche for himself, working his way up until he fucking specialized in it. His job was to collect facts, to ensure the smooth transition of the planning process, maybe monitor the practice runs. His job didn’t need imagination, thank you very much. What it did need was a single-minded focus and quite often the ability to pick up where the extractor slacked. And Arthur had focus in fucking spades.

Which is probably why when Eames swanned in with his ridiculous accent and his equally ridiculous fashion choices distracting Arthur from his job, Arthur was sufficiently annoyed. Eames was detrimental for Arthur’s carefully crafted control. His very presence in the beginning was an anomaly. Eames was primarily a thief and a forger; dream share was just another gig for him. Arthur had doubts about his usefulness until the first time he went under with him and spent an hour dreamtime trying to find Eames in a maze of Arthur’s own design. Seeing Eames’ as a fucking Forger (with capital F and all) was an experience in its own. Which earned him Arthur’s (if grudging) respect.

  It wasn’t like there weren’t any other dream forgers in the business. There were and Arthur had worked with most, if not all, of them. But there was something about Eames’ liquid transitions from himself to his forge and his adjustment to the dreamscape without breaking character. Which made it a damn shame that Eames preferred the more dangerous and tedious job of actual thievery and forging in the real world than sticking to the dream world.

Sometimes, when he had some booze in him, Arthur wondered if it was because Eames feared losing himself in his forges. But then, he’d have come across some outrageous rumour about him or run into the man himself and all such thoughts would flee him, leaving behind the aftertaste of annoyance and an unhealthy dose of interest.

Arthur’s interest in Eames was something that crept up unnoticed until it was lodged under his skin, unwilling to be removed no matter how hard he tried. Arthur knew he always had a thing about competence, a kink if you will. And, seeing Eames in his element, it’s like porn to him. It doesn’t help that Eames’ looks like he does, thick, bright-eyed, mischievous mouth. Everything about him screams danger and Arthur has always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

 

Which is why he isn’t too surprised when he finds himself standing at the baggage conveyor at the LAX next to Eames running through ways he can get him to come with him to his hotel room and make him _stay_ once he’s there.

Maybe forever.


End file.
